33. Wolfman
33
Wolfman
Tori texted in the morning. I silenced my phone so as not to disturb Jinx, at my stomach, or Victor, at my back.
Tori: How was your date?
Me: It was a hell of a time [smiling devil imp emoji][fire emoji]
Tori: The haunted house wasn’t too scary?
Me: Naw, we got married [church emoji][skull emoji]
I chuckled, then quickly then sent a follow up before she could call me.
Me: JK [sticking tongue out emoji]
Tori: [soul leaving body emoji]
Soft lips brushed my shoulder. I shivered as Victor sucked a kiss into my skin.
“Is that your alarm already?” His voice was at its most gravelly in the morning, which meant I was at my horniest.
I inadvertently ground my ass against his half-tented boxers. “No. It’s my sister, Tori.”
He planted kisses across my back while his hands roamed my belly under my shirt. “She’s up early. No sleep.”
I grinned, craning my neck to give him more access to skin. “You’re talking like a zombie.”
“Well, I am one, but you still married me last night.” He groped my breast and lightly bit my shoulder.
Hissing, I wiggled my hips. “Happy one-day anniversary.”
He moaned something into my neck. God, was it too early for sex? I could barely look at a screen without squinting. But even with my eyes closed, I could connect with Victor. At least physically.
We enjoyed a pretty domestic morning: sex, then drinking orange juice out of our skull glasses. Jinx had no problem migrating to a warm spot by the vent while Victor and I did physical activities, but he wouldn’t stop pawing at my legs during breakfast.
“Sheesh, at least let me eat, Jinx,” I muttered, withdrawing my foot to my chair.
Victor tipped his bowl to his lips and gulped down its contents. His throat bobbed.
Jinx meowed in horror. 'No milk for me?'
“Wait, can you leave some for Jinx?” I cringed at the cat-mom coming out in me, but it couldn’t be helped: he was basically my baby.
“Oh, my apologies.” Victor wiped the white liquid from his lips and set his bowl on the floor.
Jinx sniffed, clearly miffed. He licked the meager remnants and flicked his tail.
I smiled and stroked his fur. “He’s spoiled, but I love him.”
“I can tell,” Victor said warmly. “While you two finish breakfast, do you mind if I shave?”
“Not at all. I’ll get you a fresh razor. Can you guard my bowl for a minute?” I asked.
He nodded.
By the time I came back, he’d scooped up Jinx and was carrying him like a baby as he paced the kitchen. It was probably the only way to keep him from my cereal. “Thank you for allowing me to stay for the evening,” he whispered to my cat, and it was everything.
“Here you go, Wolf-Man.” I held out the razor and grinned.
“Wolf-Man? I thought I was Spider-Man,” he said.
I stroked the scruff on his cheek. “Can’t you be both?”
He slow-blinked and smiled, leaning into my touch. Whatever he was, he was mine.
We finished getting ready with movie montage-worthy efficiency. His eyes darkened when I rolled up my tights, and my heart quickened at the sight of his hips when he changed shirts. Jinx flicked his tail to wave us off, then curled up in the sun.
We debated carpooling and doing a sleepover again, but ultimately, he checked his phone and shook his head. “I really have to get back.”
“Ah, yes. Clean underwear, shaving kit, et cetera,” I teased. “Maybe next time we can go to your place?”
“I highly doubt that," he said.
“Oh.” It was probably easier to have him here, but something about the dismissal dug under my skin. Was he embarrassed or private? We’d already had sex. I’d seen his dick; why couldn’t I see where he lived?
He stuffed his phone in his pocket, then stepped closer. “I had a lovely time, Kat.”
Right. It was a great date. No need to dwell on any perceived brush-offs. I hugged him and smiled. “Thanks for the honeymoon, Spider-Man.”
“My pleasure, Miss Silver.” He kissed me, then bowed and slunk away to his car, leaving me with a deep, stretching ache.
This was ridiculous. We knew so little about each other, yet we were so connected. I had no idea what to do with our budding relationship. Or the mess waiting for me at the store.
I sighed and made my way to the mall. I still had so many questions. For instance, why did Officer Holland always serve me side-eye when I covered my ears walking through the metal detectors? Did he think I shoved stuff in my eardrums? Was there some secret drug trade via earrings I didn’t know about? Or was he just that uncomfortable with anyone who didn’t look squeaky-clean? At least Victor liked the way I looked. But he enjoyed me as a person, too, didn’t he?
I hurried into the store; my heart clenched at all the boxes sitting in my office. Half the sizes in our most popular costumes hadn’t been replenished. Customers peered through the grates. Eager customers were great for business, but hard to handle as a solo opener.
I hurried to get the basics ready. Someone knocked at the doors. Well, they’d seen me now. There was no reason to put off making money while I replenished our costumes. I let the customers inside with a haunted house-inspired flourish. “Welcome to Hell—I mean, Hot Contra, home of your Halloween and counterculture needs.”
A woman with a death grip on her purple purse raised her phone to my face. “Do you have the goddess costume in XXL?”
“Probably.” The costume section was clearly ten feet away, but I grabbed it for her anyway.
She hugged the package, her cheeks flushed. “I need to try it on.”
I rifled with the keys on my belt. “Great, let me—”
“I don’t see the pirate king in a medium,” a girl in overalls said.
“I’ll check our system; give me one second.” I’d barely unlocked the dressing room before someone was sighing at the cash register.
The first person in line dumped all their stuff on the counter and slid it into two piles. “Hi. I want to buy these and return these. You’ll have to look up the receipt.”
“Sure. One minute.” My fingers flew across the keyboard. Pirate king, pirate king…
The pace kept up well into the afternoon. I kept an eye on the clock for a moment of reprieve. Bree was late. Again. Only by five minutes, so far, but I needed her help ASAP.
A group of guys strolled in. They had baggy clothing and hunched shoulders. One lurked by the door and eyed me at the counter. They checked off every shoplifter stereotype. They even fiddled with our displays. I had no one to stand at the front to even pretend to ward off trouble. Would mall security do anything to back me up? To top it off, a lanky teen slunk in, picking at his face and peeking at me through the racks. Just what I needed: a creep smearing grease on my merchandise.
A scene kid dropped some hardware-covered pants in front of the cash register.
“The dressing room is pretty full, by the way,” they said.
“Right. I’ll get on that as soon as I’m done with this,” I said.
Fucking hell. I loved that we were busy, but I could only do so many things at once.
Heels clunked toward the back of the cashier’s desk. “What’s up, witch?” That had to be Bree.
“Thank god you’re here,” I said, trying to ignore the glimpse of her giant coffee cup. “Can you empty the dressing rooms and—”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” She set her cup into a cubby. A few minutes later, she dumped the pile of discarded costumes onto the counter.
I sighed. By empty, I’d meant put back.
“I’m going to sort it,” she said defensively. Leaning on the counter, she eyed the hunchback-posed posse. “Are those the same guys who were stalking our Halloween party?”
I frowned. “I don’t know, but the one by the door is throwing me.”
“I’ll see if they need anything.” She sauntered off toward them.
Well, that was one way of approaching things. I guessed we’d sort the clothes later. Halfway through removing a clothing sensor, I realized someone was staring at me.
The pin jammed into my thumb. “Fuck,” I muttered, trying to shake off the pain. A pinprick of red bloomed. I sucked the sting out, hoping I wouldn’t get any blood on the costume.
My would-be creeper’s eyes went round and he backed up, tugging his black pants.
Without any racks in the way, I recognized the teen’s fidgety gestures.
“You work at the theater,” I said.
Squirrel-boy raised his eyebrows. “Y-yeah. You know who I am?”
I shrugged. Not like I knew Victor, but yes. “I’m there often enough.”
“Cool. I noticed you too.” He flashed a twitchy smile and pulled his pockets. “My name’s Sam.”
“Hi, Sam. Did you need help?” Otherwise, he needed to stop lurking in our aisles.
“No. No. Well, I don’t know.” He tried to prop his arm on a jewelry roundabout, but it kept sliding off, throwing him off-balance. “I wanted to be something cool for Halloween, and I was wondering if you had, like, a suggestion. Your favorite look for men or whatever.”
“Vampire,” I said.
Well, Victor.
Hot, brooding, biter, Victor.
But that look would be all wrong for Squirrel—er, Sam.
I gestured behind me, my finger stinging. “Why don’t you look around? We have a whole wall of stuff that might be a good fit. I’d help more, but…” I gestured to the line.
“Thanks, yeah.” He backed up with an awkward wave. “I’ll see you later, Kat.”
“You probably will.” The monster inside me stretched and purred at the reminder I’d get to see Victor on the regular.
We’d only had two official dates, but this was already the best relationship I’d ever been in. We were so in sync. And horny. We just had to work on communicating outside of banter and bedroom opportunities.
Sam vaguely nodded at Bree. “See you around too, probably.”
“Bye.” She shot him a weird look and crossed her arms. Not exactly customer-friendly, but on brand for Hot Contra, maybe.
Sam tried on a vampire cape. The shiny black material tangled around his feet and his amateur knot choked him out. He quickly abandoned it in favor of creepy masks. Ugh, who could stand the smell of latex?
Bree rested her elbows on the counter. “You know, I ran into your theater guy the other night.”
“My…you did?” I furrowed my brow. How did she know which one was him?
“Mmhmm.” She smiled and stretched to grab her coffee cup. “He was real nice. Real smooth. Gave me free popcorn too. I can see why you’d be interested.”
My stomach rolled. He gave her free food? Was she interested in him too?
I accidentally grazed my stab wound and winced. I thought he only gave popcorn to VIPs like me.
Bree slurped her drink. The noise reverberated in my skull.
“You can’t have that on the floor,” I said.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m almost done with it.”
“That’s not what I said.”
Her nostrils flared. “Fine. I’ll drink it elsewhere.” She stormed off, either to the office or the break room, leaving me alone with our swarm of customers.
My lungs convulsed on the toxic fumes of her perfume. I hated this. I was supposed to be able to trust the people I worked with, and they could trust me to enforce most of the rules.
This whole thing made me want to scream. But there was only one man who could make me howl, and he was currently at the movies.